


Shelter behind the Scenes

by langsdelijn



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3285449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/langsdelijn/pseuds/langsdelijn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis is still Nico's friend first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shelter behind the Scenes

It takes Nico a few moments to recognise the noise that wakes him up as someone knocking on his hotel room door. ‘Go away, Lewis,’ he mumbles, still half-asleep, and purely out of habit. ‘It’s the middle of the night.’

‘Nico,’ Lewis says, the sound softened by the door and the distance between them. And Nico thinks, goddamn it, I was right, it is him, and some more uncharitable things besides, until the tone of voice registers with him, and he realises. Ordinarily, Lewis would be fast asleep in his own bed right now, and he’s not actually petty enough to compromise his own sleeping pattern and potentially his entire weekend just to mess with Nico. There’s something wrong.

He feels around for the light switch panel and turns the dimmer all the way down before he flicks the switch so he won’t blind himself in his endeavour to see where he’s going, and makes his way to the door, stifling a yawn. 

Nico opens the door and stands aside to let Lewis in. He closes it behind him again, and watches Lewis take a few steps into the room, then come to halt, and stand there awkward and out of place in the middle of his room. 

He should probably say something, he thinks, but he’s not sure what. And Lewis, for his part, doesn’t seem to be very forthcoming with an explanation for why he’s turned up at Nico’s hotel room at ten past four. ‘Lewis,’ he begins, on the theory that it’s better than just continuing to let the silence stretch.

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Lewis says, before Nico’s thought of anything useful to say to follow-up with.

‘Okay,’ he agrees, and bites down on another yawn. He feels unequipped to deal with this situation.

‘I can sleep on the sofa,’ Lewis announces.

‘What?’ Nico asks dumbly, initially convinced that statement has come out of nowhere. ‘Oh,’ he says, when he figures it out. ‘No.’ He did not get dragged out of bed for this just to have Lewis settle for his hotel room sofa. 

‘Look, Nico,’ Lewis says tiredly—and no, _no way_.

He’s not having this. 

‘Lewis.’

He’s still standing there, fidgeting, halfway off in his own world and barely looking at him.

‘Lewis,’ Nico says again, in the sternest tone he can muster. ‘If you want, you can have the sofa. Just come to bed otherwise. You do whatever you need to do. Okay?’

‘Yeah,’ Lewis concedes, in an uncharacteristically small voice that makes Nico want to kick things just hearing it.

‘Good,’ he says, anyway. (It’s progress of a sort, the first interaction in the conversation so far.)

Lewis blinks slowly and seems to come to some semblance of life again at that. He finally actually makes eye contact, if only briefly, then turns away and wanders off towards the closet. ‘I—,’ he begins, then cuts himself off again.

Nico watches him rifle through his clothes, pull some out from the middle of Nico’s neat piles none-too-gently (which is a relief, because he is not ever supposed to be insecure around or deferential to him, and especially not respectful of his stuff), and head for the bathroom with an armful of Nico’s clothes. ‘You don’t have to wait up,’ he says.

He does, though, and he will. As if he wouldn’t.

When Lewis shuts the bathroom door, Nico picks himself up from where he’s been hovering by his own door, and crawls back into bed. He lies there and listens to the shower turning on, to Lewis getting in it, to Lewis showering.

He tries not to think about it too much.

Lewis emerges in one of his team shirts (of course he’s picked one of those, he should’ve known; some things never change). That shower evidently did him good, he looks refreshed, more focussed, less fidgety. More like himself. 

But when he climbs into bed, Lewis still perches as far away from Nico as he can, as if this is some new, uncomfortable thing between them and not something they’ve done innumerable times for half their lives. Nico sighs. He scoots closer slowly, carefully, ready to retreat if this overture is unwanted.

Lewis lets him this far, so Nico feels confident enough to snake an arm around his waist and pull him closer and away from the lonely edge of the bed. Lewis keeps himself still, lets himself be moved, until the rest of Nico’s body comes in contact with his back. 

He flinches away.

‘I can—’ Nico says hurriedly, and tries to withdraw, but Lewis takes his arm and presses it more tightly against his stomach. ‘Don’t,’ he interrupts.

Nico draws him in more closely, aligning their bodies together from head to toe, and shifts his arm so he can interlink his fingers with Lewis’. ‘Thank you,’ Lewis whispers, squeezing their intertwined hands.

‘Anytime,’ Nico whispers back. ‘What else are teammates for?’


End file.
